by Darcy Rasmussen
At the time my grandmother died — after years of severe clinical depression (think lithium and electro-shock) — she had not been the woman I thought of as “grandma” for a long time. As we sorted through the detritus of her life, I came across an all-but-empty bottle of Charles of the Ritz Revenescence Liquid, her face cream. Some say that our most evocative memories are sparked by a long-forgotten scent; that a chance encounter can unleash hurricane-force emotions. I opened the bottle and the forgotten smell knocked me on my emotional ass; evoking images of warm cinnamon rolls, illicit roller skates, and Gallo salami (but that is another story). Nearly 25 years later, I still keep the obsidian black bottle in my top dresser drawer. Tonight I took it out and gently opened it for the first time in years, breathing her in, accessing my memory of her... a surprising muse for 6S.
Darcy Rasmussen, whose full catalog is here, runs between raindrops at Easter egg hunts.